


unadulterated loathing

by ghettoblasterz



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, In Trousers - Fandom
Genre: Act: In Trousers (Falsettos), Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Bottom Marvin (Falsettos), Hate Sex, Lowkey tho dont @ me, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rival Sex, Rivalry, Summer Camp, Top Whizzer Brown, chip zien marv and stephen bogardus whizzer, kinda slaps, marv is an angsty bottom and whizzer is a confident top, this is old as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoblasterz/pseuds/ghettoblasterz
Summary: Marvin Mitzner, fresh out of high school, is officially a counselor at Camp Moordon. Unfortunately, so is his long time enemy Whizzer Brown.Anger can stem from very strange things.(a short whizzvin fic)
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	1. camp season

**Author's Note:**

> heres a whizzvin fic for yall!!!
> 
> this will be a shorter fic as most of it was prewritten like...a year ago LOL
> 
> enjoy some angry boys

The sky shone bright blue in between the leaves of the trees at Camp Moordon. Marvin Mitzner had parked close to the lodge, seeing as though his short legs didn't appreciate the thought of trudging a mile, his suitcase occasionally bumping his heels and causing him to stumble. He stepped out of his car and inhaled the untainted air around him, and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. The smell had never been purer, yet so sour at the same time.

Marvin's skin crawled as he dragged his suitcase up to the camp lodge. It was in that rickety old building, containing the mess hall and an open meeting space, that Marvin would check in for his job as a camp counselor. He huffed at the thought. Another year of annoying little brats and even more annoying counselors.

In all honesty, Marvin didn't even like children. For being a counselor at the camp he received pay of a whopping thirty dollars per week, too. Worst of all, he and most of the other counselors had a ridiculous amount of anger towards one another. So why did he keep coming back every year? 

Like hell if he knew.

His eyes scanned the room as the door closed with a horrid creak behind him. Of course, wall to wall bustled with people. Parents, kids, other counselors. Age told everyone apart; ages 5-7 were campers, 30 and up were parents, grandparents, whatever, and 18-22 were counselors.

But a sense of dread overtook him once he realized he still didn't know who his counselor partner would be. As soon as he strolled up to the desk, he'd be handed a folder. That folder would contain everything he'd need to know for the next two weeks; any allergies in his campers, names, ages, and most importantly, his partner. Last year, he'd gotten partnered with his ex-girlfriend.

It didn't end well.

Sweating, he took a step forward, his suitcase rolling loudly behind him as he tugged it along. The ground beneath him swayed. The voices around him got louder and louder, swelling about his brain and blocking out any rational thought, derailing the train already on overdrive. He wiped his forward and stepped beside the registration table (he didn't have to wait in the long line being that he was a counselor).

"Well, well, well," a voice said to him, "look who came back for another year!"

"Hi, Miss Goldberg. I signed up already at the high school."

Ah, Miss Goldberg. Marvin had known her since middle school and hated every minute of it, only she scarcely knew that.

"Yes, I was kidding, hon. Here's your packet, then just sign my sheet here and meet in the dining hall," she said, pushing a stiff clipboard and pen his way.

Marvin huffed, pursing his lips. He almost forgot his name for a moment, his hand shaking and trembling with his fingers curled around the writing utensils. But he got it on paper. That was all that mattered.

He held the mustard-yellow packet tightly in his grip. His knuckles turned white. Thankfully, the crowd of people dispersed by the time he'd reached the dining hall; a hallway-looking room bordering the nature outside lined with screens. Besides the wasps that always found a way in and the flies that buzzed overhead, Marvin found the room quite enjoyable as compared to the more...stuffy rooms of the main lodge.

He found a seat at one of the tables and inhaled deeply, feeling the rise of his chest and eventual fall. The breath escaped in a sorry, shuttering jet.

Part of him didn't want to open the folder. But he had to. He undid the top fasten, pulled out the most prominent paper inside, and glanced at the top with wide eyes.

Shit.

His name was penned there, and under it one unexpected and undesired.

Marvin Mitzner

Whizzer Brown

His stomach fell to the floor. A disgusting sight, really, but thankfully it remained in his own head, replaying in his own thoughts, rather than in anyone else's. Surely, this was a mistake. He would rather be partners with his ex, Trina, than Whizzer Brown.

"Oh no." he groaned aloud.

"Sup, partner," a voice suddenly giggled from above him.

Marvin glanced up. There he was; the infamous Whizzer Brown, clutching a matching mustard folder to his chest. Marvin's fingers tightened around the bottom of his chair, staring up at Whizzer with wide eyes. Frightful, angry eyes. 

Whizzer Brown. The root of all of his problems. The bane of his very existence.

The reason why he was gay.

"You ready for a killer summer?" Whizzer asked. His tone bore uncomfortable innocence; Marvin couldn't bring himself to respond to it flatly, only he had to. Behind Whizzer sat his suitcase.

For a moment, he sat speechless, thinking maybe this was just a nightmare, and he'd wake up at home in the safety and warmth of his own bed in just a moment. But the more he sized up his partner, the more worried he became that the double shot espresso he'd picked up on the way had done its job.

Whizzer seemed to dress with the intent of slaughtering any and every poor queer on the camping grounds. Since he went to the gym and had a habit of flaunting it about, he always wore skin tight tee shirts, or long sleeved button ups with the sleeves sloppy cuffed at his elbows. That day he wore a shirt from some obscure guitar shop, red in color, and naturally making him look like a male model as opposed to a camp counselor. Covering his legs were, obviously, grey sweats, which despite the clichè got his point across easily.

Marvin huffed. "If you even speak to me one more time, the only thing that will turn out killer about this summer will be me."

"Hey now," Whizzer frowned, "that's no camp attitude. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Or was your good mood on a shelf you couldn't reach?" He laughed to himself but shifted his stance.

"You practiced that in the mirror this morning."

"Hm. Look, wanna come to the cabin with me so we can put away our stuff?"

"Hell no."

"Fine then, be that way. But by the end of the day you're going to have to pretend to like me, whether you like it or not. See you in an hour, shortie." He offered a faint grin, before strutting past with his suitcase in tow and pushed past the screen door.

And Marvin immediately collapsed onto the table, his head in his hands. How could this have happened? Surely God didn't hate him this much, assuring him a punishment worse than Hell although he had prayed and prayed otherwise.

He wished he had packed a gun in his suitcase, for himself, of course.

Upon sitting up, he decided the worst part was that he did have to go up to the cabin next. That meant he'd have to take the long way around to avoid Whizzer and show up just a tad bit later, all because he didn't want to admit defeat to the sorry excuse of a partner he would have to work with.

With a grimace, he adjusted his blazer, stood up, and wormed his way through the crowd he'd plowed through originally, before trudging out of the building and up the cascading, almost completely dirt-covered wooden steps leading to the girls cabin. From there began another ten minute walk uphill to the boy's.

The cabin, naturally, was shabby as all hell. The front door opened into an atrocious tilted lobby; the showers and bathrooms were straight back, one set of beds in a room on the right, and then another matching room on the left. Each had three doors leading into them.

A strong smell of well water wafted about the space, which grime caked from wall to wall. Marvin pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, glanced around for a moment, and took his suitcase by the handle, turning into the room to his right via the door closest to him. His fingers began to perspire as they wrapped around the lukewarm handle.

He took a deep breath. Could be worse, right? At least it's a job.

At least it's a job.

Marvin sulked into the room, silently overjoyed to find that it was nearly empty. Maybe two campers were unpacking with their parents on the other end of the housing. All of the beds were bunk beds, wooden ladders connecting the bottom to the top from the foot. Marvin always preferred bottom bunk.

But what he saw next made his stomach lurch, again, as if it hadn't had enough of that now. Whizzer kneeled just before him against his suitcase, just feet away. He had noticed him coming in, too. But the worst part quickly became that Whizzer had stolen his favorite bed; the bottom bunk second to the wall against the back. He'd written his name on there two years in a row. They'd really bonded.

Whizzer said, "So you were coming up here after all."

Marvin grinned. It reeked hideous displeasure that only shone to make Whizzer want to crawl out of his skin. "Had to piss," he lied.

"Right." Unamused, Whizzer turned back down to his luggage. He removed a portable electric lantern from his bag, and held it to his face for a moment. Light shone in his eyes, although he hadn't turned the thing on. After a moment of careful observation, he turned and placed it on the shelf nearest the bottom bunk. 

Marvin found himself staring at Whizzer's enamored face. He shook himself out of it with a groan, before coldly stating, all the while holding his ground, "You know, that's my favorite bunk. I've had it for two years and signed my name twice."

"Boo-hoo." He scoffed, not even glancing his way. "Get over it."

An indisputable rage began to boil within the depths of Marvin, one profound and not so easy to let go. It felt less like having to let go of a lover's hand, but more so like holding onto the edge of a cliff as it slowly crumbled away. And deep trenches of lava rested below.

Marvin bit his lip, his hands both now tight around his suitcase's handle. "You took it on purpose just to spite me. You know that one is mine. And you knew I'd want it this year."

And Whizzer then stood up, countering Marvin with unexpected anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and raised his eyebrows. "Grow up, Mitzner. Life sucks.."

It took every last bit of Marvin not to snap back, and God, was it exhausting. To the point where tears threatened to sting at his eyes. But he persisted. He stood up straight. Fine. If Whizzer wanted to play dirty, Marvin could play dirty, alright. He could play this little game until the infamous Whizzer Brown sat slumped on his knees and cried if he wanted to. He adjusted his glasses one last time before starting to the bed right next Whizzer's; instead of a bunk bed, a singular twin sat fitted against the wall. He shoved his luggage beside it, and offered Whizzer a sly grin when he turned over in surprise, only to continue the beginning process of unpacking his things.

He had his own shelf-wardrobe contraption, so he and Whizzer wouldn't have to share, thankfully. Marvin didn't have to share with anybody, which remained probably for the best.

Marvin watched on with a twinge of pain while Whizzer unpacked as if nothing had happened, unbothered as the beautiful summer day. He set a pair of pearly white shoes on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe.

White shoes at a summer camp? What a Marilyn.

He pulled out a sketch pad, as well as a stout pouch seemingly filled with pens, pencils, and markers. So he was an artsy kid too, huh?

Minutes passed of near silent unpacking. Campers and parents came in, campers and parents came out. But the one thing Marvin could focus on was his burning hatred for Whizzer Brown and everything about him. His toned body, his stunningly tight outfits, his angelic face, and his snide little attitude. All of it.

Eventually Whizzer stood up, brushing off his thighs. Marvin had already finished unpacking, yet lingered around his bed to spy on Whizzer. Yes, it was creepy. Yes, he'd found his new camp pastime. But an angry gay is a dangerous gay, and Marvin knew he'd have his revenge in due time, at some point, he and Whizzer would see eye to eye. It would be gruesome and bloody and gut-wrenching, and that's why Marvin's little body shook with mischief and excitement.

Meanwhile, he watched and waited, his head running rampant with gorgeous fantasies of his triumphs.

"It's almost time for orientation," Whizzer remarked, glancing down at his ever-so-expensive watch. "We should get going."

Marvin snapped out of his daze. "We?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah...You know, we're partners. No matter how much you hate me and how much I hate you, we're a team now."

"Over my dead body."

Whizzer scoffed, shaking his head and strutting towards the door, left propped open from Marvin's entrance. "Suit yourself, puppy." 

He left without another word. Marvin held his breath until he heard the front door creak shut and inevitably slam.

After making sure the coast was clear, he, after pushing up his glasses once more, scurried to Whizzer's bunk and looked up and down his wardrobe. Fire burned behind his eyes, powerful, unconsciously powerful. He rose on his tip-toes and strained to snatch the pouch beside his drawing book (which he could easily make fun of later, now he had no time), before finally taking it in his grasp and unzipping it. 

Bingo. His fingers slipped around a black sharpie.

With the tool now in hand, he zipped the pouch up and hurled it back into where Whizzer had left it. He turned to the bunk bed and wrote MARVIN along the wooden sideboard between the top and bottom bunks, his hand shaking from the adrenaline.

"There," he whispered to himself.

After taking a minute to admire his work, he stuffed the marker in his pocket, and promptly burst into a laughing fit. A giddy seizure, if you will. He couldn't stop even if he tried, and had since stopped attempting such an exhausting feat; he remained in the housing cabin, laughing his ass off so completely that he fell backwards onto his bed and had to lay down, and ignored the stares from both parents and campers alike until the fit had passed. Afterwards, he sat up, wiped his eyes, and started right out the door and eventually out the front for orientation.

Marvin thought he was much better at playing this game than he really was.


	2. a change of dynamic

"Kids, hey!" Marvin yelled, desperately trying to find his voice among the rampant hoard of kindergarteners. One reared his arm back, about to chuck a chunk of his roll at another kid, but Marvin grabbed his arm before he could advance.

Nothing the kids screamed Marvin could make out. He ran from side to side, ripping destroyed food items from readied arms and sitting kids back on their chairs. It was chaotic, and after a while, Marvin's head began to spin.

"Can we go play now?" one boy yelled over the noise.

"Play? Hell--I mean, no. You're supposed to stay here and eat. Stop throwing your food! Hey, you! Knock it off!"

"Please, Mister Marvin, please?"

The boy who Marvin scolded had begun to cry, hurling the fistful of green beans in his hand across the dining hall and onto another table. God how he hated this group.

Marvin hurried over, rubbing the boy's shoulders and muttering, "Ah, kiddo, I'm sorry. You just can't throw food here! I don't know what you do at home, but here, the food goes in your mouth." The boy continued to inconsolably cry.

At this point, volume had reached its max, and somehow nobody else at the camp was present to help poor Marvin, who now considered ripping out his hair. Whizzer had said he would run the camper down to the doctor's cabin to lay down and then return to help him, but it had been an eternity, and no Whizzer!

"I want Whizzer back!" the sobbing boy blubbered.

And of course, like magic, he strolled right through the door before the final "ck" could escape the boy's mouth.

He smiled. "Jesus, what happened here?"

And Marvin froze, blushing horribly. He stood up and folded his arms. "I...Well...It…?" He mouthed I HATE THIS GROUP to Whizzer behind his hand.

"Hm. Okay...how about we go outside and play tag now that dinner is...over?"

The kids roared in applause, shooting off of their seats and out the back door. Marvin and Whizzer stood in silence for a moment, before Whizzer started to the door. He pushed it open a pinch, before glancing back over his shoulder and asking, "You coming, puppy?"

Marvin huffed. He clearly didn't know how to respond, especially to being called puppy.

"Don't sweat it, you'll get 'em next time."

Now it was nighttime, around 11PM. The kids had gone to bed at 8:30. Marvin and Whizzer stayed up and sat at the table in the cabin's lobby to make paper-plate awards for the kids at the end of the camp; AKA bullshit compliments or camp jokes that they most definitely pulled out of their asses last second.

Trina came in to check in on everything momentarily, seeing as though she had been promoted to head counselor of sorts.

"Everything alright in here?" she asked, closing the door carefully to avoid the loud creak it had a tendency to make. "You got the boys to bed easy?"

"I did," Whizzer replied.

Trina offered a light smile. Although her and Marvin were exes now, seeing as though he had discreetly come out of the closet a year before, she did have a beautiful, slight face. Almost whimsical. Even the point of her nose and the parting of her lips helped her display her amusement as she muttered, "I knew I could count on you, Whizzer."

Her eyes turned cold and dark when she met Marvin's. They were silent for a moment. She glanced back to Whizzer and said, "Goodnight, boys," before turning and quietly slipping back into the night.

Marvin and Whizzer sat in silence for a moment, staring at the door, where moths and mosquitoes begged to enter. They quietly returned to their work, only Marvin couldn't stop glancing at the grin on Whizzer's face.

He sat upright. "Look, you don't have to be so snide about it."

Whizzer set down his marker. He'd written MOST OPTIMISTIC :D on the plate in red and remained in the process of adorning it with different colors. "Snide about what?"

"That you're better than this than I am."

"I never said that."

"Yeah, but you know it. And you're making it very clear that I'm no good at this." Marvin stood up and moved near the wall, steadying himself against it. "Maybe I'd be better if I didn't have the most annoying, shit-eating partner this stupid camp has to offer."

"Excuse me?" Whizzer stood as well, moving towards him.

And in an instant, Marvin was staring right up into his eyes. "You heard me. I hate everything about you. And if you know what's good for you, you'll get away from me."

"Aw, what are you gonna do?"

"I--I'll--"

"You know, I was trying to be nice about the whole you sucking ass at this job, and I thought I'd done a fairly good job. I think I know damn well why you hate me."

"Oh really? Because you're an annoying prick?"

"Nah, I was thinking more along the lines of this." In a move so sudden that Marvin couldn't react, he grabbed the sides of Marvin's head and pulled him forward, meeting them in a sloppy, languid kiss.

Marvin squeaked, but that cascaded into a faint growl. He collapsed against the wall, arching into Whizzer's touch, and settling his arms around his neck. 

It wasn't until he opened his eyes and realized what was happening that he pushed Whizzer off, gasping for breath. "Jesus, fuck," he said, "where did that come from?"

"Where do you think, dumbass?" Whizzer replied. "I've had the biggest fucking crush on you since you came out. I thought it was obvious!"

"O--oh. Holy shit. You made me gay."

"I did?"

"You're the reason I left Trina, you dickwad! That's why I hated you for the past two camps, because I had this hopeless crush on you and I thought you'd never...want…"

"Well, isn't this fun?"

"You're telling me this whole time I was despising you, we could've been making out?"

"...yes."

"Jesus Christ!" 

With that, Marvin roped him in and kissed him again, trying to bite his lip. But Whizzer grabbed him by his wrists and pinned him against the wall before he could continue. 

Whizzer laughed, "You think I'd let you be in control after all the shit you've put me through? After all the little scenes where I had to save the day?" Marvin pursed his lips, but ultimately nodded. "No way. This is my treat, puppy."

"The kids," Marvin mumbled, almost winded from shock, "what about the kids?"

"Now you worry about the kids."

"Oh--fucking shut up, can't you ever just shut up?"

Whizzer pecked a kiss to his lips, not so much as smiling at the sudden peace. That seemed to be their new quick-fix. He bowed his head in thought for a moment, before taking Marvin's hands and leading him out the door.

But Marvin was so distraught, he'd almost become a different person. "Hey, you're just gonna leave them all alone in there? What if Trina comes back?"

Whizzer stopped, turning back to face him. "I'm just really loving that now's the time you decide to be a decent person."

"Oh, I'm just loving how what the fuck is wrong with you? And to think you're the man I get off to in the bathrooms."

They began walking down the shallow trail again. Fireflies blinked in the lush overgrowth. Crickets and frogs sang melodious songs that echoed for miles and miles, creating the most perfect symphony that composers could only yearn for, to tap into its beauty and elegance.

"Aw, that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Maybe you moaning my name will take that spot." 

"Don't think it hasn't happened before, but just because you want me to, I won't."

"I think the cutest thing about you is how you act like a power bottom. You couldn't even hold yourself together when I shoved my tongue in your mouth, let alone my cock in your ass."

Marvin thought about trying to respond, but bit his cheek and recoiled in silent pain. They'd reached their destination; Whizzer had led them right to the art cabin. Close to the boy's lodge, but secluded, isolated in its own whimsical bubble. They eased into the slightly decrepit building, Marvin blinking away the last shreds of moonlight in his eyes.

They ended up on the loveseat in the gallery beside the work room. It was small, as was the building, but probably the most comfortable piece of furniture available, which prompted a moan in itself once they sat down on it.

Whizzer immediately began stripping Marvin of his trousers, first tossing his leather belt onto the wooden planks below with a thump. It landed beside a plastic container filled with unopened jars of tie-dye for next week.

"Oh, God," Marvin moaned as Whizzer positioned him so that the latter was sitting on the couch and Marvin straddled his hips. Beforehand, Whizzer had removed his own trousers. He spat on his hand and lathered the slick along his cock for makeshift lube; they'd had enough foreplay in the past year that now all they wanted was each other, and quick. "This feels like a dream."

But Whizzer suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and jolted him back. "Awake now?"

"Ah--fuck me, please, Whizzer." He bucked his hips feebly against his suitor's erection. "I'm so fucking horny. I want to feel you between my legs for weeks. I want your cock throbbing inside me and I want it now."

"You're hot as fuck, puppy. We could've been doing this months ago if you weren't such a brooding slut."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

"Good. You're gonna take me like a good boy?"

"Y--yes."

"Cute." He slipped an arm around the small of Marvin's back, his bare arm snaking around the warm skin with ease and fitting comfortably; the sensation had been so elusive for so long that Marvin gasped. Whizzer leaned into his ear and whispered, "You're all mine now."

"Make me yours, make me fucking yours."

And with that, Whizzer wasted no time in surprising the both of them, grabbing Marvin by the throat and pushing him off of him. They met again with Marvin laying against the arm of the couch and Whizzer over top of him, hand securely around his neck. Marvin grinned, Whizzer simply pursed his lips.

Wordlessly, Whizzer spread Marvin's legs, which he immediately curled around Whizzer's waist, and pushed in. Marvin groaned, wanting to desperately to roll his head to the side but the restriction being so damn sexy.

Inevitably, Whizzer found a rhythm, and they soon realized what a good call it was to flee to the art cabin. Marvin became a moaning mess, gripping onto the top of the couch and the side of the cushion until his knuckles turned a pasty white. Whizzer released his hold on his neck, taking hold of Marvin's shaky legs and swinging them over his shoulder, before holding onto his sides to ground himself.

"Oh God, I'm gonna cum, oh my fucking God," Marvin nearly yelled, his head falling back onto the soft arm of the couch.

"Cum for me."

And hardly even half a minute later, Marvin cried out, his eyes screwed shut and his toes curled. His rigid body shook as Whizzer continued to pound into him. A minute or so passed of Whizzer chasing his own high, groaning in between the silence of hot breaths, before he leaned down and began kissing Marvin. He bit his lip, not so much as flinching when Marvin could only whine in response. Whizzer thrusted in one last time before spilling inside of Marvin; the warm rush pushed Marvin farther into headspace than he ever could have imagined possible.

Silence encapsulated the room shortly after. Marvin breathed heavily into Whizzer's shoulder, his eyes now blissfully shut as his brain tried to wrap around just what had just happened.

Whizzer and I stayed up late doing awards. Whizzer pinned me against the wall and told me he liked me. Whizzer made out with me. Whizzer took me to the art cabin and wrecked the fuck out of my ass. Now everything is quiet. What if he regrets it? What if he lied? What if one of the campers woke up? What if Trina finds out?

Whizzer exhaled what sounded to be a laugh. Although seeming to have a bit of trouble, he sat himself upright on his knees, rubbing his forehead. He said, "How'd I do, short stuff?"

"Hey--" Marvin raised his eyebrows, raising his chin. He paused for a moment, then melted into a contagious grin that made the desolate darkness of the art cabin feel homely and bright-- "pretty damn good, Brown. Pretty damn fucking good."

"Ha...You don't wanna move, do you?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Me neither, honestly."

Marvin grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. "No, no, we gotta get back to the cabin. This kind of thing is generally frowned on at kid's summer camps."

"You're right." Whizzer paused. He folded Marvin's legs in front of him for a moment and slid off the couch, searching for his clothes. He stepped into his boxers and trousers and reached down to pull them up. "Tell you what, if you put on your clothes I'll carry you back."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

Marvin sat upright, hunching over immediately. "Okay...Can you help, pretty please?"

Whizzer, pulling his tight fitting red shirt back over his head, rolled his eyes. He reached down for Marvin's clothes and threw them his way. "You're so needy."

"Great. Where'd we put my glasses again?"

"Ah, shit. They're still in the cabin." Whizzer slid on his shoes, subtly frowning. "Sorry, kiddo."

"Well, I ain't walking. I guess I just gotta trust you won't just take me to the middle of the woods and murder me, huh?"

Whizzer crossed his arms. The snide air about him dissipated, leaving them in cold but temporary silence once more. "You're afraid of that?"

"Sort of. I know, it's pretty irrational. I sound like an idiot when I say it out loud."

"Kiddo, it's a scary world out there. But that is kind of stupid."

Marvin scoffed. He now stood upright, although his legs still shook like he'd never been colder and the temperature had plummeted down by the hundreds. He adjusted his shirt with an unamused look plastered across his face before moving to fasten his belt. Afterwards he held out his arms grandly. "Okay, asshole. Sweep me off my feet already."

And Whizzer did, Marvin giggling all the way out the door. Whizzer carried him with ease, even down the rickety steps, and he strolled up the hill to the boy's cabin with Marvin's arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, cradled in his arms and cracking hideous jokes all the way back. 

"The pain in this is that as soon as we get back, I'm putting on pajamas," Marvin sighed, writhing a little in his uncomfortable clothing. "I'm very sweaty and itchy and these white jeans are most definitely not helping."

"Cry me a river, shorty."

They paused for a moment, admiring the lightning bugs flickering in the tree line, although Marvin only saw them as faint yellow smudges. Crickets chirped in the lush, green depths. Little frogs stationed themselves at the sides of the path, heads pointed upwards, towards the bats fleeing from tree to tree. Stars gleamed overhead, illuminating the forest duly with help from the moon (although, technically, the sun).

Whizzer mumbled, "So...Does this mean we can be friends now? Call a truce?"

"Hm. Guess so. I'm still trying to process what just happened." He nuzzled into Whizzer's shoulder. "Feels like my world just got flipped all sorts of upside down."

"Right. It's gonna feel weird not wanting to bite your ear off every two seconds."

Marvin shook his head, grinning again. "I never said we couldn't fight." He kissed Whizzer's neck softly, before leaning up and biting at his earlobe, humming along the way.

"Watch it. I don't have a round two in me."

"Sure you do."

"Not for you I don't!"

"Hmph."

"It's late. We need to sleep because, believe it or not, we're still on the fucking job."

"Goddammit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope yall enjoyed this lol
> 
> this was SUPREMELY horny


End file.
